


Future Looks Good

by buckysbears (DrZebra)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Reunions, and jemma is the best candidate, in which daisy puts an ad on craigslist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10117529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrZebra/pseuds/buckysbears
Summary: She's probably being catfished, Fitz argues. Or they're cannibals. Or murderers (and anyway can he have her doctor who dvds when she dies?).Jemma makes a running leap out of her comfort zone, takes a chance on a pretty face, and it doesn't go so bad after all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hackingxbiochemist wanted to see a skimmons fake dating fic and it got WAY OUT OF HAND THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE

“You’re gonna get murdered.”

Jemma turns a glare on Fitz, and he holds up a hand defensively.

“I’m just saying. Craigslist ads are where desperate people go to die.”

“There’ll be other people there, Fitz, it’s a family reunion. It’s not like we’re going to a corn maze. _That_ is where people go to die.”

Fitz pins her with a serious look. “How long do I have to wait to hear from you before I get to claim the _Doctor Who_ DVDs?”

“You already have your own copies.”

“Yeah, but what if mine get burned out? I like having backups.”

Jemma’s eyes fall back to her laptop screen, thumb nail wedging between her teeth. “I think it’s cute that you think you’re getting any of my things when I die.”

“As your roommate, best friend, and emergency contact, I think I’m entitled to something.”

A sigh pushes through her nose. “It’s $100, Fitz. I could put that toward projects—”

“Or food, or rent—”

“-And it’s not like I’m doing anything that day anyway. This girl needs a date, and I’m as suitable a candidate as any. Why shouldn’t I do it?”

Fitz smirks. “She included a picture, didn’t she?”

Jemma delicately angles her screen away from him.

“She included a picture and you think she’s _hot_. You think she’s _sexy_.”

“Ugh, please, Fitz, I don’t want to hear those words from your mouth ever again.”

“Lemme see.” He makes a grab for her laptop, and she stops him with her foot, clutching the laptop protectively against her chest. “Don’t be like that,” he chides, “I just want to see.”

Reluctantly, she turns the laptop around.

Fitz raises a hand to scratch at his ear, face pinkening. “Oh. Um. Yeah, yeah I see where you … She’s- Yep.”

She pulls the screen back toward herself, fingers tapping anxiously on the touchpad. “I’m going to answer it.”

“You’re _sure_ this is a good idea?”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Besides the ‘getting murdered’ thing? She could turn out to be a creepy old man catfishing you, her family could be cannibals—”

“You’re supposed to tell me nothing will go wrong,” Jemma cuts him off. “You know, be comforting?”

“I wasn’t aiming for comforting. I’m just being realistic.”

“ _Cannibals_ is realistic?”

“It is when I’ve spent the last three days marathoning _20/20_.”

Jemma rolls her eyes. “Whatever, I’m answering it.” Before she can lose her courage, she clicks to answer and types out a quick message, hitting ‘send’ and then immediately slamming her laptop shut. She stares at Fitz for a moment, both of them wide-eyed, and then she huffs out a nervous breath. What’s done is done.

-

“You know, murderers frequently live in lovely little neighborhoods like this one,” Fitz informs her, glaring at the house suspiciously. He offered to drop her off and, against her better judgement, Jemma had agreed.

“Will you stop with the murderer thing?” she cries, purse clenched tight between her fists. “You’re not going to talk me out of it at this point, you’re just making me more anxious.”

He tears his gaze away from the house, landing a concerned look on her. “I’m just worried. And you shouldn’t do this if it’s making you anxious.”

“I already said yes,” Jemma sighs. “And anyway, Dr. Garner says that it helps to push myself out of my comfort zone sometimes, when it’s on my terms.”

“I really don’t think this is what he meant.”

“Can you please just—” She covers her face with her hands. “Please just say something comforting.”

Fitz is silent for a moment, and all she can hear is her heart beating. “Well, even if the date goes bad, she is hot. You might get to kiss her or something.”

Jemma drops her hands, and she nods, gazing somewhere far off down the street. “Right. That’s true, I might. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Just—” He winces. “Keep your phone on you. And pick up if I call.”

“I will.”

“And try not to be alone with her too much.”

“Fitz.”

“And don’t get into a car and go anywhere else.”

“ _Fitz._ It’ll be fine. Seriously.”

His lips twist, and then he sighs. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be back in exactly three hours. If you want me here earlier, just call. I’m ten minutes away.”

“Thank you, Fitz.”

He nods, shoots another glance at the house, and then unlocks the door. She leans over the center console to give him a kiss on the cheek before she gets out.

“Knock ‘em dead,” he says as a goodbye, and she shoots him a smile as she closes the door.

It really is a nice house. A little on the small side, but not in a bad way. It’s cozy. Big windows, red brick front, stepping stones leading up to the porch. Jemma imagines there’s a play set in the backyard, with a swing. It’s not suspicious in the least.

Her phone rings, and she picks it up without looking.

“Just checking,” Fitz says on the line, and she turns around to glare at him, still sitting in the car.

She hangs up, waves him off, and waits until he drives away before she makes her way up the steps and to the door.

She straightens her skirt (“It’s not slutty,” Fitz had said, “but not too ‘Catholic schoolgirl’.”), pushes her hair behind her ear, and knocks. She has just enough time to wonder why she ever agreed to this (is it boredom? Is she trying to prove something? Is she just that desperate?) before she hears the shout of “I’ll get it!” from inside.

Jemma puts on her best smile, and then the door swings open, and before her stands a girl. A very pretty girl. Even prettier than her picture, which, actually, Jemma finds a little unfair. The girl blinks at her, mouth popping open.

“Wow,” she says.

“I’m Jemma,” Jemma says, holding out a hand. The girl shakes her head, then takes her hand.

“Daisy,” she says. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to be so- um—”

“Nubile?” Jemma offers.

Daisy’s eyebrows pull together briefly. “Well, I don’t really know what that means, but. I was gonna say ‘pretty’. Does it mean ‘pretty’?”

“Close enough.”

“Good to know you think well of yourself,” Daisy comments, lips tugging into a smirk. “Come on, let me show you inside.”

Daisy waves her inside, and Jemma stops in the hall, toeing off her flats when she sees the pile of shoes in the entryway. There are framed photos hanging on the wall by the door, and Jemma peers at them curiously. They all feature Daisy and a woman (her mother, Jemma presumes), going from recently taken to back when Daisy was a child. She doesn’t see any baby pictures, though.

“Just you and your mum, then?” Jemma asks, and then belatedly wonders if it’s perhaps a sensitive topic, that she shouldn’t have brought up just moments after meeting her. Like. A possibly _really_ sensitive topic. Good going, Jemma, she admonishes herself.

Daisy only smiles, though, gazing at the photos fondly. “Yeah, it’s just been me and her for twelve years now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—”

“No, no,” Daisy quickly cuts her off, “she adopted me when I was eight. Just her. Didn’t have like a super dramatic dad death or anything.”

“Oh, thank god,” Jemma says. “I was worried I’d gone and put my foot in my mouth already.”

“Don’t worry,” Daisy says, winking, “they’ll be plenty of time for that later. And I’ll probably be the first one to do it, actually.”

“Well, I’ll do my best to avoid it for as long as possible.”

“Daisy?” calls a woman from deeper in the house.

“We’ll be there in a minute,” Daisy yells back, then grabs up Jemma’s hand and starts dragging her through the hallways.

Jemma tries not to focus on how soft Daisy’s hand is. Daisy pulls her into a bedroom, and closes the door behind them. Jemma mourns, just a little bit, when Daisy drops her hand.

“Was this your bedroom?” Jemma asks, looking around, trying to distract (herself, or Daisy, she doesn’t know) from the flush in her cheeks.

The walls are painted a soft blue. There are band posters on the walls, along with a menagerie of polaroids, of anything and everything. Flowers, trees, dogs, and Daisy with other kids their age. There’s a skateboard propped against the closet. The shelves are lined with trophies—soccer, kung fu, basketball.

“Still is,” Daisy says, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m not doing the whole ‘college’ thing. Just makes more sense to live at home until I get a full time job with a full salary.” She takes in Jemma’s expression cautiously, though Jemma is sure she isn’t making any sort of face. “Is that weird? Still living with my mom?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why, when did you move out?”

“I don’t think that’s important.”

“Come on,” Daisy prods, “tell me.”

Jemma tries not to blush. “Well, I moved here for university when I was 14. My parents still live in Sheffield.”

“Fourteen?” Daisy’s eyes bug a little. “So you’re like, what, a genius or something?”

“Or something,” Jemma mumbles.

“Well, hey,” Daisy says, shrugging, “it’s something to brag about to the relatives.”

“What is it that you do?” Jemma asks, wanting to move on from the topic. Not that she doesn’t like people knowing how smart she is. She prides herself on her intelligence. She just doesn’t want to seem stuck up in front of Daisy. (Why does she care so much, she wonders. This is a purely professional arrangement. They’ll probably never see each other again after today. And why does she feel sad about that?)

“I consult,” Daisy says vaguely.

“Consult?”

“I’m a hacker.” Daisy seems shy about it. She waves her hands. “Not, like, the bad kind. It’s all above board. I don’t dump people’s secrets onto the internet or anything. I do consulting for security firms and stuff like that.”

“That’s really interesting,” Jemma says genuinely. “How’d you get into it?”

Daisy shrugs. “I’ve always been into computers. We had this super clunky one at the orphanage that I used to use whenever I could. Which wasn’t often, with all the kids plus the nuns, but they’d let me mess around with it and fix it up whenever it broke. But then when I moved in with my mom, she had one, and I got to use it for an hour every day. Started learning how to code right off the bat, and it turned out I was good at it.”

“Is that what you want to do with your life? Coding, consulting, things like that?”

“Yeah. I mean, computers are always evolving. There’s always something new to learn, always something new to defend against. We didn’t used to be able to carry computers everywhere with us, like smartphones, so who’s to say what’s coming next, you know? The future’s in tech. Why, what about you? What is it that you want to do?” Daisy sits down on the bed, looking up at her curiously.

“Well, I have degrees in biochem. I work in a lab at the university right now, but my friend Fitz and I want to have our own lab someday. He’s an engineer. We’re not quite sure what we want to do yet. Advanced prosthetics is a growing field, maybe something in that.”

“And when you say degrees …”

“PhDs,” Jemma tells her.

Daisy lets out a low whistle. “And you’re my age? That’s amazing.”

Jemma ducks her head, tucking her hair behind her ear, but luckily she’s saved by a knock on the door.

“They’ll be here in five,” Daisy’s mom says through the door, then they can hear her move away down the hallway.

“Okay, quick briefing,” Daisy says, and Jemma sits on the bed next to her, not sure how far away she should sit. “So a ton of my mom’s family is coming into town, hence the reunion. They’re all coming in from China. It’s like a bunch of her cousins and all of their kids and everything. Most of the kids speak English, but her cousins only speak a little bit—“

“I’m afraid I only know a few words of Mandarin,” Jemma says, wincing. “I doubt my pronunciation is any good. And I don’t know any Cantonese.”

“That’s fine,” Daisy assures her. “We’ll mostly be hanging out with the kids, anyway, and there’ll be plenty of people around to translate for you if it’s necessary. And, honestly, you’re mostly just here to look good for my grandparents. They both live in America and speak English. But they’ve been bugging me a lot lately about if I’m seeing anyone. I just wanted to impress them while the whole family is here.”

Jemma looks away, down at her hands. “And you’re sure … you’re sure bringing a girl is the best way to do that?”

Daisy shoots her an odd look when Jemma glances back up. “What, like bringing a _boy_ would be any better?”

Jemma snorts. “Fair.”

“If anyone has a problem with it, my mom will set them straight. And anyway, I- I want to be open about it. I don’t want to have to hide any part of myself from them. If they have a problem with it, I’d rather know now. And … this is actually the first time I’m meeting these people. So I don’t want to start off with any secrets.”

Jemma’s lips quirk briefly into a smile, then her face falls into something more serious. “I think that’s brave. I- I’m still not out to all of my family. My parents know, because, _whoo,_ was I not good at hiding it, even as a child. But my extended family, aunts and uncles and cousins, none of them really know.” She gives a little shrug. “I don’t know if they’d be okay with it, so I never said anything. But it’s not like we’re close, anyway, so I figured ‘what’s the point?’.”

Daisy’s eyebrows scrunch together. “It’s not, like, _not_ brave that you haven’t told them. It’s your life, it’s your personal shit, you can tell whoever you want.” 

“I suppose.”

“It’s true.”

Jemma wrings her hands, “So, if your family isn’t okay with it … what do I do?”

“Just stick with me. If I’m not around, stick with my mom. It’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” Jemma says, nodding to herself, then puffing up. “I can do that. I’ll make them like me, either way.”

Daisy grins. “I’m sure you will. You seem very convincing.” She holds out a hand. “Ready to go out?”

Jemma links their fingers, and together they emerge into the main part of the house. Daisy’s mom is hunched over the island in the kitchen, her short fingernails tapping rhythmically on the counter, staring at the clock. She straightens up when they approach.

“This must be Jemma,” she says, not quite warm, but not cold, either.

“This is she,” Daisy confirms.

The woman holds out a hand. “You can call me May.”

Jemma shakes it, giving her a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, May.”

“My family can be a bit … overwhelming,” May tells her. “Just keep your head above water and you’ll be okay.”

“I’m a good swimmer,” Jemma assures her.

May almost smiles at that, but that’s when the doorbell rings. She takes a breath, levels them both with a hard look, and then goes to answer the door. As soon as she opens it, there’s a great swell of noise, and then the flood comes. It has to be forty people, Jemma thinks, that rush into the house all at once, filling the family room, the kitchen, the entryway.

Daisy greets people, introducing herself, introducing Jemma, and at first there’s no problem at all. Jemma is polite, and she says hello, and shakes people’s hands. Some of them speak English, and some of them don’t, but they all shuffle along quick enough, just a rotation of family members that keep the girls stuck by the kitchen island.

Jemma thinks, _maybe this won’t be so hard_. But that’s when she appears. A small, older woman with a steely gaze.

“Lao lao!” Daisy says, leaning forward to gather the smaller woman up into a hug.

The woman hugs back, but she keeps her eyes on Jemma. Jemma tries not to sweat under the watchful gaze.

“So this is your girlfriend?” the woman says, inspecting Jemma carefully.

Daisy pulls back. “Yes, Grandma. This is Jemma. Jemma, this is my grandmother, Lian May.”

Jemma holds out a hand, with a “it’s a pleasure to meet you,” but Lian doesn’t take her hand in return. Daisy shoots her an apologetic look.

“Jemma,” Lian says shortly. “I’d like a word with you.”

“Oh.” Jemma starts a little. “Of course.”

“Privately.”

Jemma turns to Daisy, and Daisy stares back wide-eyed. Cautiously, Daisy shrugs.

“Daisy,” Lian commands, “talk to your grandfather.”

It’s only then that Jemma notices the taller, unassuming man behind Lian. He smiles placidly, giving her a wave.

“Jemma and I will be outside.”

Lian turns and walks away, fully expectant that Jemma will follow, which she does. Jemma looks around for a friendly face as they weave through the crowd—May, or one of the cousins’ kids—but it looks like she’s well and truly alone in this. They make their way outside. Sure enough, there’s a play set in the backyard, with a swing, as well as a patio table and striped chairs.

Lian sits, and she looks even smaller than she does standing up. Yet her presence seems to fill the whole yard.

Jemma nervously takes a seat across from her, but she keeps her shoulders high, laces her fingers in front of her at the table. She’s not always great with people, she knows this. She can’t really relate to them, a lot of the time. She scares off her peers. But this woman, Lian, is not a peer. She’s just someone for Jemma to impress. And if anything, Jemma is good at impressing people.

“How did you two meet?” is Lian’s first question. Her tone is flat.

“My university hosted an event, and Daisy and I were in attendance. We met then,” Jemma says. They’d prepared for this, answers to questions that most people would ask.

“What kind of event?” The question isn’t casual—this is obviously a test.

“A lecture. About the future of computers and technology in the medical field.”

“Are you training to be a doctor?”

“I have two PhDs, so I’m already a doctor. But not a medical one, no.”

“PhDs in what?”

“Biology and chemistry.”

“What will you do with them?”

“I’m not completely sure yet, just because there are so many options available to me. I’d like to run my own lab, maybe something in advanced prosthetics.”

Lian watches her, eyes narrowing. “How long have you been dating my granddaughter?”

“Three months.”

“Do you love her?”

The question throws Jemma. She’s lied about their relationship already, how they met, what the true nature of it is. But lying about this feels … worse. And anyway, she has a sinking suspicion that Lian recognizes every lie she’s told for what it is. So she’ll stick to the truth, as much as she can, for the moment.

“Not yet,” Jemma says. “It’s too early for that, I think.”

Lian nods, something about her relaxing. The set of her shoulders, maybe. “How does Daisy fit in to your future plans?”

“She’ll fit if she wants to fit. I know how to make compromises, and I will, but my career comes first.”

“If she got in the way of your plans, you’d end it?”

“Seems like the most humane thing to do, for both our sakes. I wouldn’t want there to be contempt between us.”

“She’s had a lot of hurt in her life, you know,” Lian tells her. “With her history? A lot of people have let her down.”

“And I wouldn’t want to add to that,” Jemma says honestly. “I think it’s inevitable to hurt each other, at least a little bit, in any relationship. That’s just the nature of being human, sometimes we mess up, sometimes we hurt the people we care about. But even if we broke up, I wouldn’t do it to hurt her. I’d never do anything to hurt her, if I could help it. But I think Daisy is strong. Maybe stronger than you’re giving her credit for.”

Lian leans back in the chair, fingers tapping on the table. Just like her daughter, Jemma thinks. “What do you like most about my granddaughter?”

Jemma purses her lips, thinking, looking away. Looking at the swing set, and all its implied history. “She makes me excited to get to know her better,” Jemma decides on. “I’m not often excited to get to know other people my age.”

“And why is that?”

“History,” Jemma says. “She’s not the only one that’s been hurt. I’ve always scared the other kids away.”

“Scared them away?”

“I’m too intense. I talk too much about things they don’t understand. Or I don’t respond how they want me to respond, I don’t care about what they think I should.”

Lian leans forward, linking her fingers as Jemma has, mirroring her position. “How did you two really meet?”

“Online,” Jemma replies. Lian would know if she lied again.

“And you’re here …?”

“She wanted to impress you,” Jemma says. “I was the best candidate.” Slowly, she pulls a smile onto her face. “Did it work?”

Lian almost smiles. Jemma is certain of it, that was an almost-smile.

It’s then that the sliding door opens, and May comes out. She closes the door behind her, then approaches, resting a hand on the back of Jemma’s chair.

“Mama, are you interrogating her?” May asks.

“Yes,” Lian says.

May turns to Jemma. “Daisy sent me to rescue you.”

Jemma grins at her. “I’m doing just fine, thanks.”

“Not many people do ‘just fine’ with my mother.”

Jemma aims the grin at Lian. “We were having a lovely chat, actually.”

“Is that true, Mama?”

Lian levels them both with a careful look, watching Jemma for an especially long time, but eventually she nods. “Jemma is quite the smart girl. She reminds me of me, when I was young.”

“That’s worrisome,” May remarks dryly.

Lian turns in her chair to look out into the yard, past the fence and into the surrounding neighborhood. “I think I’m going to sit out here for a while longer. Jemma, you should go find your girl. I’m sure she’ll love to see you.”

“It was very nice meeting you, ma’am.”

“As it was you.”

Jemma stands, and is surprised when May leads her back inside by placing a hand on her shoulder, squeezing briefly. The noise hits her when they open the door, and Jemma makes her way back into the throng of people. May points her in the direction of Daisy, and it’s not long before she finds her, surrounded by the cousins’ kids, animatedly telling a story.

Jemma sidles up beside her, and watches with a smile. She wasn’t lying when she said she’s looking forward to knowing Daisy better. If she has family that loves her as much as Lian obviously does Daisy, she has to be pretty great.

Daisy finishes telling her story, and the kids disperse into the crowd. Daisy turns to her, grabbing her hand.

“How’d it go?” she asks, nerves clear in the glint of her eyes.

“I think it went well. I told her the truth.”

“Oh boy,” Daisy breathes. “Well, she … she probably won’t tell anyone else. Or she’ll tell everyone, it’s kind of hard to tell with her.”

“I don’t think she’ll tell. She just wants what’s best for you.”

Daisy shoots her an odd look, like she doesn’t quite believe it, but eventually a smile wins out. “She’s pretty great. Tough as shit, but great.”

“A lot of your family is.”

Daisy nods. “Yeah, they are. I got really lucky.”

“I think it’s because you’re pretty great, too.”

Daisy stares, the smile dropping, then pulling back into a smaller, but more sincere expression. “You think so?”

Jemma squeezes her hand. “Yeah, I do.”

They mill around the house, talking to people, laughing at jokes, swapping stories. The hours pass without them even realizing it. It goes fast, when she’s with Daisy, who holds her hand and smiles at her and laughs at all of Jemma’s bad puns. The whole thing is a little overwhelming to Jemma, who’s used to schmoozing in only very specific circles, but she thinks she does pretty well. It’s dark before she realizes it, and people eventually start shuffling out of the house, packing themselves into the vans they came in and driving away.

And then it’s just the three of them. Just Jemma, Daisy, and May.

May settles down on the couch with a groan, a glass of scotch in hand. She looks over at the two girls, who are standing in the middle of the room, still coming down from the crowd.

“No girls in your room,” May says, but she’s smiling.

Daisy huffs a little laugh, then turns to Jemma. “Do you want to go outside for a little bit? It’s still pretty warm out.”

Jemma nods. “I’d like that.”

Instead of the patio chairs, they settle on the swings. They don’t swing very high, just rock gently back and forth, looking up at the stars, which are just starting to become visible in the darkening sky.

“Everyone really liked you,” Daisy says, not looking at her.

“Yeah?” Jemma asks, not looking either. “What about you?”

Daisy glances over, a grin pulling at her mouth. “Yeah, me too.”

“Good.”

After a minute, Daisy reaches over, slowly, and catches Jemma’s pinky finger with her own. They stay like that, barely linked, but linked, and smile.

“Am I gonna see you again?” Daisy asks.

“Are you asking me on a date? A proper one?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.”

“Oh, good,” Daisy says, scuffing her shoes in the dirt under the swings. “’Cause if you said no I was gonna be super bummed.”

Jemma snorts. “The feeling would’ve been mutual,” she assures her.

Daisy doesn’t say anything else, and Jemma watches her in the soft light. Carefully, she unlinks their pinkies and grabs ahold of Daisy’s swing chain, tugging her closer, tugs until the swing seats are pressed against each other. Daisy looks over, a little surprised, and when she does, Jemma kisses her. Nothing intense, not like how Jemma wants to kiss her, one day, but just … gentle. Sweet, one hand holding the swing chain, the other curling over Daisy’s leg. Daisy tastes like watermelon lip balm, and Jemma thinks it’s just about the best thing ever. Jemma kisses her, and doesn’t pull away.

“So you’re a ‘kiss on the first date’ kind of girl, huh?”

They both startle away from each other, lips coming apart with a _smack_. May is leaning against the frame of the door, which neither of them had heard open, grinning, just a little.

“ _Mom_ ,” Daisy hisses.

May huffs a quiet laugh, then turns to Jemma. “Your ride is here. But he was very insistent on not coming in.”

Jemma groans. “I’m sorry, he’s just weird. I’ll be there in a minute.”

May leaves, and when Jemma turns back to Daisy, her whole face is red.

“First kiss got interrupted by my mom,” Daisy mutters. “That’s awkward.”

“We’ll make up for it next time.”

“Yeah?” Daisy asks, lips twitching into a smile.

Jemma nods. “Yeah.”

“And when might that be?”

Jemma purses her lips. “Next Saturday. Five o’clock. Meet me in the main library on campus, first floor.”

“Our first real date is gonna be in a library?” Daisy asks, eyes squinting.

“No,” Jemma laughs. “That’s where we’re meeting. The rest is going to be a surprise.”

Daisy watches her cautiously, and then nods. “Okay. Okay, yeah, I can roll with that.”

Jemma stands from the swing, walking backwards toward the house. “Next Saturday.”

“Next Saturday,” Daisy confirms.

Jemma hits the door, then laughs. She pulls her lips together, trying not to grin. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, you will.”

Jemma turns and makes her way inside, says goodbye to May, and leaves through the front door, a girlish giggle stuck in her throat, a feeling in her chest that she hasn’t felt in a long time, maybe ever. Fitz is waiting for her out front in the car, and she collapses into her seat, a giddy grin on her face.

“So,” Fitz says, watching her with an odd look. “Not murderers.”

“Not murderers.”

“You look … happy.”

“I am, Fitz,” Jemma breathes, and she really means it. Her phone beeps, and she pulls it out of her pocket.

_come back inside!_ the text reads. _I forgot to pay you_

_Don’t be silly_ , Jemma responds. And then, _You can buy me dinner._

_that’s a deal_

“You actually have a girlfriend now, don’t you?” Fitz sighs, long-suffering. “You went into this with a fake girlfriend and now you have a real girlfriend.”

“Maybe,” Jemma says, grinning.

Fitz rolls his eyes, pulling out onto the road. “You know, that’s not how the world is supposed to work, Simmons. That’s just not the way you’re supposed to go about things.”

“I’ve always been unconventional.”

“That’s true,” Fitz agrees. “Still, it’s not fair.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“Wee bit, yeah.”

Jemma leans back against the headrest, a happy sigh pulling out of her. “I really like her, Fitz.”

Fitz shoots her a look, then turns his eyes back to the road. “I’m happy for you,” he grumbles.

“I’m happy for me, too.”

“Well, that’s what’s important in the end, isn’t it?”

He says it sarcastically, but it really is true. Jemma’s happy, in a way that she hasn’t been in a long time. It’s different than just happiness. She’s happy spending her nights marathoning shows with Fitz, and spending her days in the lab. She’s content with her life how it is, she really is. But this … She tries to put a name to it. Excitement, is the closest word she can find. She’s excited, in a way she’s never been excited before.

Her phone beeps.

_what’s the surprise?_ is the text she gets.

_Not telling,_ Jemma responds.

After only a few seconds: _okay_ and _I trust you_

Jemma grins. So the prospect of this evening was kind of scary. So she pushed herself out of her comfort zone. So she did something she doesn’t normally do. So maybe the whole thing was ill-advised. But it was totally worth it, she thinks. Totally worth it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> why is lian may in so many of my fics?? (because i love her that's why)


End file.
